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Entry tags:
- * dreamy,
- * npc: agent young,
- * npc: commander grothia,
- * npc: sergeant chiron,
- * setting: base,
- achilles [fate],
- akira kurusu [persona],
- arthur [inception],
- ashitaka [princess mononoke],
- daenerys targaryen [asoiaf],
- hei [darker than black],
- henry cooldown [no more heroes],
- keyleth [dungeons & dragons],
- kylar stern [the night angel trilogy],
- mordred [fate],
- noctis lucis caelum [final fantasy],
- ryuji sakamoto [persona],
- siegfried [fate],
- soldier 76 [overwatch],
- travis touchdown [no more heroes],
- yoshitsugu otani [samurai warriors]
all this energy calling me
WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.
TOUCH BASE;
backfill armed services echelon
COST re-appropriated vehicle 854A-5.2
COST re-appropriated vehicle 854A-5.2
read the base setting infopage
DEPARTING FRANCE
The order comes out the second day after the Tuileries is sacked:
PACK UP, GET READY TO MOVE OUT. WE'VE DONE ALL WE CAN HERE.
DEPLOYMENT: BASE. WE NEED TO RESTOCK. BE PREPARED FOR MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.
STAY SAFE. TIME-STEP EXPECTED TO BEGIN WITHIN THE HOUR. FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW TO COST: FIND A SECLUDED SPOT, AND TRY NOT TO EAT ANYTHING BEFORE THE JUMP.
The Time-Step
The transfer begins, and it starts like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, not painful, not to start with. Just a hum of sensation. But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomena as 'the buzz'. The sensation builds, feeling not unlike standing near a great engine, or the wind rattling the branches of a great tree. There is long a moment of motion sickness, and one cannot always be sure if it is you that is shaking from the inside out, or the world that is shaking you from the outside in. It may just be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea as the world blurs out of focus. A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Some swear they feel a touch of the divine; the eyes of the eternal look down upon you. Ancient bones rattle just out of earshot, cold and brittle. Or maybe it's an illusion brought on by powerful technology grafted into your skin.
One thing is for sure: One moment you are here, and the next, you are not.
Nausea is commonly accompanied by this shift. One moment, you're in the cold of France. The next, you're in a temperature regulated hallway, looking not unlike a very poorly put together space station. Droids rush up and down the long hallway, fixing broken bits of machinery or just chattering with each other. Crows sit on high ledges, looking down, watching.
(For those of you who just apped in and didn't participate in the TDM, you'll appear alongside your comrades now, standing in this long hallway filled with droids and crows and men and women in clothing from 18th century France. Of course, you'll be wearing the minimal COST athletic issued underwear, and holding whatever one item you were allowed to bring. Surprise!)
At the end of the hall is a long table with heaps of used clothing on it. The sizes and styles vary, along with color and detail (AKA none look exactly like the linked pics, they're just a baseline, use your ~imagination~). One thing's for certain, all the clothing has been used before, with holes darned and worn edges. They're all clean, though, and each bears a single patch with the words 'KNOW YOUR RIGHTS, THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN' and 'COST sewn into the side.
They're not exactly high fashion, but they might be more comfortable than the late 18th century digs you're still wearing, if you showed up in France. Or, you know, the underwear.
Meet the Drill Sergeant
There is the echoing sound of hooves, and a strange creature emerges from a nearby room: a centaur. He smiles kindly, happy to see you've arrived. He has a significant limp in his back left leg, causing his hoof-beats to pitch an irregular rhythm as he walks slowly through the hall.
"Hello, all!" His voice is kind, but it's pitched to carry. "You may know me as Sergeant-- I am in technicality a drill sergeant. You may call me Chiron, if you wish, though I'm to understand some may know others with the same name." He laughs, amused. "In any case, welcome home. It is not much, but we have tried to make it hospitable for you in your time here. Your room assignments have been uploaded onto your BCEs, along with some technological upgrades we've been testing out. There are a few prototypes and experiments you may find in your rooms as well. Our agents are..." He looks up at the crows. "We are a curious people."
He looks over to the table stacked with clothing. "Please pick out what suits you, and make adjustments as needed. If you have any complaints, and wish to change your rooming situation, your username, anything of that nature, please send me a request. I am also known in some capacity as a trainer-"
One of the crows caws, and it sounds almost sarcastic.
Sergeant Chiron ignores it. "Hm. If you wish for me to make a training regiment for you, to better your skill in this organization, please let me know. But for now: I am to understand your last mission was... tumultuous. Please, rest and acclimate yourself to BASE."
He turns to leave, before stopping-- "And please be kind to the crows. They remember slights."
The crows' cawing sounds like laughter.
HOTSPOTS
There's been some technical difficulty since the prognosticators had their little meltdown. Coolant is in short supply, and some of the corridors of BASE are a little warmer than others. Pleasantly warm. Comfortably so, like walking through a sunbeam. In these hotspots, it feels comfortable and snug.
Characters walking through them will feel the urge to lie down and rest, maybe take a quick little nap.
Sleeping in these spots will cause unsettling or confusing dreams, but not nightmares. Dreams in these hotspots-- and sleeping in these hotspots will never be dreamless-- will be hard to remember upon waking, but they seemed very... strange. Almost as though you were intruding on something important but private.
Yet you can't quite remember it when you wake.
If you're clever and watchful, you'll notice the crows avoid these areas, so you can avoid them as well before you're seized by the urge to lie down and nap.
Particularly watchful characters may notice the hotspots are growing in size and number as the days wear on.
(More information about these and the forthcoming December plot will be coming in an infopost on the 12th, but if you have any questions now, feel free to ask here!)
read the base setting infopage
no subject
I do have a pair I'd be willing to part with, depending on how big your hands are and if you don't mind black.
no subject
Black's good. [ Read: black is his favorite but he doesn't want to come across too invested in these gloves. ]
Here, let me send a picture. [ And he does, one hand resting against an equally black pant leg. Slender fingers and a relatively small hand overall, no particularly marks of note even if there are a few callouses here and there from wielding weaponry. ]
no subject
Your fingers are a bit smaller than mine, but there's no reason the gloves shouldn't fit. They might be a little bit loose...if you don't mind that then they are yours.
no subject
Wow, I owe you one. What's the going rate on those, anyway? And where should I swing by to pick them up?
no subject
As for where you can pick them up I have been assigned to Capsule 5...should be interesting.
no subject
[ And true to his word he does leave his own capsule in order to head over to Dorian's, but... well, not without taking the time to try to make himself look a little bit more presentable. The guy sounds like he knows how to judge a look and he's self-conscious enough as it is.
Still, the delay's a short one before he's outside the capsule, hesitating before deciding another text is the best route. ]
I'm here.
no subject
It was either that or those awful French clothes, but he makes the most of it.]
Welcome, I should properly introduce myself. [At which point he stands up straight and offers a well practiced bow.] Dorian Pavus.
no subject
Noctis stares at him for a moment, somehow feeling under-dressed even if they're both more or less in the same boat. Is it the mustache? He seems like he'd fit right in at court. Noctis straightens up in response, trying to seem a little bit more put together. ]
Ah--
[ He moves to half-bow in return but the movement's stuttered, cut short when it feels like something he shouldn't be doing. ]
I'm Noctis. Nice to meet you.
no subject
An awkward, but adorable, return gesture at that. It causes a smile to tug at the corners of the mage's lips.]
The pleasure is all mine...and you're name is quite charming. [It means Night in Tevene...which is a strange coincidence.] I believe you came for these?
[The mage holds the gloves out to his companion.] Care to try them on first, just to see?
no subject
Yeah, thanks. These look a lot better than the other ones I found. [ As he reaches out for them, already tugging one on with an appraising look. ]
Maa... [ With fingers flexing. ] They're a little big, but I figured I'd cut the fingers off anyway.
no subject
Let's face it, the pickings were quite slim. [The best Dorian could do at the moment was a pair of ripped black jeans and a distressed sweater. It might almost have been fashionable, but Dorian did not approve. Oh he enjoyed showing skin, but not like this.]
Cutting the fingers off might very well be an improvement, I approve of the choice. [Dorian offered with a grin.] I've not much else to offer beyond a beer if you're in no rush.
[It would just be rude to send him on his way, wouldn't it?]
no subject
Haa, I knew it was a good idea. [ Now he just feels even more self-satisfied and confident in his decision, getting approval from the most fashionably dressed person he's seen yet. No, maybe that's not Dorian's style, but it's definitely an outfit Noctis would prefer over what's been offered here. ]
... you managed to get ahold of beers? [ Is it advisable to say yes? He's not sure, but he's low on companions at the moment and it'd probably look immature to turn him down just because it's (even a tiny amount) alcoholic. ] Sure. Thanks.
no subject
Fingerless gloves are always a good style choice. [Dorian wears them and they are more hygenic than regular gloves honestly, as for Dorian's style...this is the furthest thing from what he would wear, but it fit well and it wasn't in terrible shape so. He had no idea they looked nice or stylish on him.]
Nothing potent or high quality most likely, but if you can tolerate it then...I guess we'll call it beer. [Dorian chuckled softly, he wouldn't really call it beer...but it was the best he could get his hands on at the moment. And if Noctis wasn't put off by that offer the mage would just go ahead and lead the way up a narrow set of stairs.] Watch your head, bloody ceiling shrinks on the way up...or feel as though it does.
no subject
[ Even a modicum of hospitality is more than he's been getting on average around the station. Probably not something he should consider all that surprising given how he tends to come off in day to day interactions: spoiled, naïve, and low energy. The life of a sheltered and kind of shy prince, apparently. ]
Looks like this one's the same design as mine. One of the guys I travel with would never be able to get through here... [ Something he both does and doesn't want to think about. He misses them critically already.
He at least manages his way into what he's been calling the dining room without too much trouble, already making himself right at home with a slide into a seat. ] Yours feel more comfortable somehow...